Birthdays
by jmaddox1815
Summary: Bailey's first five birthdays in the Tower. This is a one-shot companion piece to my story "Clueless". It probably won't make sense unless you've read it first.


**_Author's Note: Hello! It's my birthday, so I decided to write a little side-story to Clueless, my current fic in this category. There are no spoilers for the story. It's just a one-shot about Bailey's first five birthdays after she's hired with a bit more insight into her background. I hope y'all enjoy!_**

**_Love,_**

**_J.M._**

* * *

_Nineteen_

Bailey pulled off the silly crown that her sister, Becky, made her wear for the going away/birthday party they'd thrown. Her birthday wasn't for three months, but Becky and her wife Linda wanted to make sure they got to celebrate it with her before she left. Sighing happily, she sat in front of her book shelves. She only had a few more shelves to pack up and wanted to get it done before the movers came in the morning.

A whole new life was starting. She could break away from her past and all the stupid stunts she'd pulled over the last few years. No more Cardiff, Alabama. No more slowly dying ghost town. No more small-town people with elephant memories and nothing better to do than gossip. She was going to New York, where she could disappear in plain sight and worry about nothing but keeping her job.

The offer had come out of the blue in the form of a priority letter. It had almost seemed like a hoax, but her grandmother had just passed and she needed to escape. She replied the very next day, driving into Birmingham to escape the prying eyes of the people she'd grown up with.

When the interview dates and times arrived, Bailey couldn't believe it. It all seemed so surreal. Nevertheless, she bought a roundtrip ticket to New York out of the small inheritance her grandmother left her, borrowed her sister's best suit, and headed to the Big Apple for her first meeting with Ms. Potts.

She left feeling disheartened. After all, she was just a teenager with a high school diploma and no experience, but Ms. Potts must have liked something about her, because she called her at the motel that night to ask her to come back for another interview, this time with Mr. Stark.

Bailey had never been more afraid in her life. She couldn't explain why, but she wanted this job more than she'd wanted anything before. She'd be fine without it, of course. Granny had left her the house and her sister was willing to get her a job at the bank with her, but this was different. If she got this job, it would be something she did on her own. It would be her first proof that she could make it without her family guiding her. A housekeeper may not be the most glorious job around, but it was respectable and offered room, board, and a salary that made her eyes bug out when she saw the number.

Mr. Stark had been distant and cold, interspersing his terse questions with snide remarks. It took all of her willpower to hold her temper, but she managed. Of course, some of it leaked out in the form of overconfident replies and biting retorts, but, all in all, she did a fair job for someone who had once broken the quarterback's nose for grabbing her ass.

Three weeks passed before she heard back from Ms. Potts or Mr. Stark. IN the end, it hadn't been them to confirm it all. A nervous knock and a shy scientist had brought the news. Dr. Banner had been quiet, stumbling through a speech he'd obviously practiced in the mirror as he tried to congratulate her on her new position while he was still on the front porch.

Bailey had laughed and dragged him into the house, pouring him a glass of sweet tea and giving him one of the cupcakes she'd made the night before. She baked when she was stressed, a distressing habit she'd picked up from her grandmother. The man didn't seem to know what to do with himself, slouching down and picking at the sweet without saying a word. She'd had to guide the conversation, dragging out the information as to when she started and what her actual duties consisted of. When that didn't work to loosen the man up, she started telling every knock-knock joke and pun she knew until he finally relented and laughed.

Sliding in her copy of_ Wuthering Heights_, Bailey shook her head. Dr. Banner had been far too tense. She hoped he loosened up some once she was working for him. She also hoped Mr. Stark decided to be a bit nicer. A forty minute interview she could stay calm through, but if he was like that every day, she'd kill him in a week.

Becky knocked on the door, bouncing her new son, Jason, in her arms. She and Linda had used artificial insemination to have their adorable twins, Jonathan and Jason, who were now a happy, hearty, and healthy nine months old. "What are you doing, Bails?"

"Packing." Bailey responded, setting aside the box and bouncing to her feet, taking Jason from her sister. "The movers come tomorrow."

"Don't remind me." Becky grumbled, taking in the empty walls with despair. "Are you sure you want to do this, baby girl?"

"I have to do this, Becky. I need to get away." She jiggled her nephew, tickling his ribs to see his gummy smile. "I know you love it here. You still have Linda's family and a job and mortgage and all that stuff that says you've built a life here. Well, in Birmingham, not Cardiff.

"I don't love it, though. I want out. I want to get as far away as I possibly can and never look back. I want a fresh start, and Tony Stark is offering it to me on a silver platter." Bailey cooed at Jason, coaxing another smile from him. "It's not like we'll never see each other. I get vacation time, plus, with Skype, we can talk on webcam every night."

"And what is Stark offering you? He has a reputation, you know, and you're not an unattractive girl."

"Thanks, sis, but I'll be cooking and cleaning. Not warming his bed."

"After California-"

"That was a lapse in judgment. Let it go." Bailey handed her nephew back to his mother. "It a good job with great pay. It's nothing shady." She grabbed the box, resting it on her hip and adding more books. "This will be good for me. It'll be good for you too."

Becky looked at her like she'd lost her mind. "How?"

"You've been her three times a week since Granny died to check on me."

"I'm worried about you!"

"That's precisely my point!" Bailey turned around, holding the box in front of her like a shield. "You're constantly worrying about me and I know it's putting a strain on you and Linda. With me gone, you'll have more time with each other and with the boys. Meanwhile, I'll be living the high life in New York City. You know, when I'm not scrubbing toilets and cooking dinner."

Becky sighed, rearranging the pillow on Bailey's bed to prevent Jason from rolling off and positioning him in the middle of it. "And what about your condition?"

Bailey grinned, passing Becky a box to fill with books. "What better place for the Girl Who Never Sleeps than the City That Never Sleeps?"

* * *

_Twenty_

"Dammit! Get down here, Clint!" Bailey raged at the ceiling, shaking her spoon at the vent in the kitchen. "I know it was you! I swear to God, if I have to crawl in there after you, I'm gonna whip your ass into next week!"

"What did he do now?" Natasha asked, strolling into the kitchen and grabbing an apple from the bowl Bailey kept on the table. "Did he hit you with another dummy arrow?"

"No! He shot something into the spaghetti sauce!" Bailey groused, digging into the chunky sauce to find whatever it was he'd added. It was impossible. Everything was coated in tomato. For all she knew, it could look like a chunk of sausage. The whole pot was ruined and it would take all day to make a new one. "You're called Black Widow, right? When are you going to eat your mate? I'll gladly cook him for you."

Nat laughed as Clint dropped from the vent. "I'm not quite finished with him yet." She replied, accepting his kiss with a smile. "When I am, I'll let you make him into a nice stew."

"Stew is too good for him." She hefted the heavy pot off the stove and carried it to the trash can. "When you're ready, we're having roast Clint."

"I told you I don't like mushrooms." Clint said breezily, plopping into the chair next to Natasha and grabbing an orange. "I will not eat them."

"So you shot a mystery object into the spaghetti?"

"Yep."

"Did you even look in the small saucepan?" Bailey questioned sweetly, pulling it off the stove.

Clint eyes her suspiciously. "No."

She pulled the lid off. "Spaghetti sauce, sans mushrooms, just for you."

He blanched, face whitening. Calmly, Bailey sat the sauce back on the stove, pulling a pack of mushrooms from the fridge and dicing them into tiny pieces. Nat watched her carefully. "You know that won't feed us all."

"I don't expect it to." Bailey pulled a frying pan from the cabinet, tossing in some butter, garlic, and parsley. "I'm going to call the burger place for our supper. Your boyfriend, however," the butter melted quickly and Bailey threw in the diced mushrooms, "will be eating every single bit of this spaghetti sauce. With mushrooms."

"I will not!" Clint declared.

Nat leveled a cool look at him. "I'll make you."

Bailey shook her head. What a way to spend her birthday.

* * *

_Twenty-One_

"Bailey! Look what just came for you!" Pepper called, carrying a tall arrangement of flowers into the kitchen. "Aren't they gorgeous?"

Bailey dried her hands on a dish towel, smiling. Calla lilies and daffodils. They could have only come from one person. She pulled out the card, laughing as she read her sister's birthday message.

_21 flowers for 21 years. Go have 21 shots, baby girl._

_Happy Birthday, Aunt Bailey. We miss you._

_Love,_

_Becky, Linda, Jason, and Jonathan_

Shaking her head, she passed the card to the curious Pepper, going back to scrubbing carrots for the tomorrows chicken and dumplings. She should have known Becky would pull something like this. Every phone call for the past three months had been pushing her to go bar hopping for her birthday. Becky just didn't seem to get that she preferred a nice, normal night at home. She didn't want to celebrate her birthday.

"It's your birthday?" Pepper asked excitedly, eyes lighting up.

Bailey shrugged. "It was my birthday three days ago. The flowers are just getting her a bit late."

"Three day- Why didn't you tell us?" Pepper shouted. Bailey rolled her eyes. Maybe it was being around so many dramatic people, but she found herself calming down since she took this job. Even her temper was getting better. She could deal with a full day of Tony during one of his bad spells without snapping.

Pepper's shouting brought others into the kitchen. Bruce and Tony trailed in, probably looking for lunch as well as entertainment, and Rhodey poked his head in from the family room. The airman looked from Bailey to Pepper expectantly. "What didn't she tell us?"

"Her birthday was three days ago!" Pepper railed, hands on hips and glaring daggers into Bailey's back. "And it was a big one! She's finally legal to drink!"

"You just had your birthday?" Rhodey asked, leaning against the counter next to her. Bailey nodded mutely, scrubbing at another carrot. He nudged her, waiting until she looked up at him. "We've got to celebrate. I could take you out. We'll have a few drinks, do a little dancing. What do you say?"

"I say that's a great idea!" Pepper declared. "We'll all go out! Bruce, you and Steve too! It's Bailey's birthday. We have to celebrate it somehow."

"We really don't." Bailey interjected. "It was my birthday three days ago. It's past. It's over with. We can forget about."

"Yeah. We're going to forget about you finally being old enough to drink." Tony scoffed. "You realize this means I can stop hiding the liquor, right?"

"You realize I'm the one who hid it, and I have no intentions of telling you where." Bailey and Bruce shared a secret smile. He'd been the one to help her when it became clear that Tony's drinking was getting out of control. She'd nearly lost her job for that one, but Pepper stepped into save her. Now she was still gainfully employed, Tony was six months sober, and the alcohol was hidden in the one place Tony would never think to look: the laundry room.

"Why is Lady Potts yelling at Lady of Training?" Thor asked, ambling into the room with his usual befuddled smile.

Bailey groaned, tempted to hit her head against the sink. There was no escaping it. The entire Tower was going to find out when her birthday was and she was going to be lectured by each and every one of them for not telling them sooner. Never mind the fact that two birthdays had already passed in the Tower, and they'd never showed an interest before. Calmly, Bruce slid up beside her, settling a comforting hand on her shoulder. While Pepper ranted to Thor about the situation, he leaned down and rested his chin on her head. "What do you want to do for your birthday?"

"Ignore it."

"Besides that."

"Honestly?" She whispered. "Wait until everyone goes to bed, watch some cartoons and maybe have a glass of wine, since I can drink it legally now."

"That's it?"

"That's it."

"I'll-"

"We're going out." Pepper interrupted.

Exasperated, Bailey turned around to find that Natasha and Clint had joined the crowd cluttering up her kitchen. Subtly, Bruce moved, placing himself between her and Rhodey, who went to stand next to Tony with a huff, and tucking her under his arm.

"Pepper." He began slowly. "You know Bails isn't a social creature. Why don't we do something small here at home. We can call that bakery and see if they'll make her a cake. You like Black Forest, right?" He asked, glancing down at her. It was more to stall Pepper than anything else. He already knew her favorite everything. She nodded anyway, trying not to scowl. She had to keep reminding herself that they meant well. "There we go then, we'll get her a Black Forest Cake. Maybe a couple present. We can order pizza so she doesn't have to cook. Pepperoni and mushroom?"

"Go with ham and pineapple. Clint won't eat mushrooms."

"There are a lot of us. We'll get both." He grinned, but his eyes were hard as crystal, making it clear that this was more of an order than a suggestion. "Everyone gets what they want. We get to celebrate the day our favorite housekeeper came into the world, and Bailey doesn't have to go out and deal with the club crowd."

Pepper looked like she was about to argue until Tony whispered something in her ear. Giving in, she whirled on her heel. "I've got to go shopping. She's at least getting a present, dammit!"

Bailey sighed, quietly apologizing to everyone for keeping them out of the loop and retreating to her room with the flowers so that she could escape the questioning glances. Her gaze caught on a picture of her grandparent's home back in Cardiff. She sat on the steps with her sister, her grandmother and grandfather just behind them, smiling brightly. That was the day they'd finally paid off the mortgage. The house was theirs, and, during a time when banks seemed to be repossessing everything, that was a miracle. She shook her head when she remembered that she originally thought she'd escape the small town life by coming her. That was a load of malarkey. She'd just exchanged one small town for another.

Later that night, after the presents were opened and the cake devoured and Bailey endured rounds of toasts in her honor and too many happy birthday choruses; she collapsed on her couch with a relieved sigh. Bruce poked his head, waving a bottle of wine and their favorite DVD of Foghorn Leghorn classics. She laughed, motioning for him to join her on the couch.

"Here you go." He murmured, kissing her forehead and handing her a glass of wine after her set up the DVD.

"Thanks, Bruce." She whispered, cuddling into his side.

Bruce smiled down at her. "No problem. I'll always look after you. You know that."

"And I you."

"Happy birthday, Bails."

* * *

_Twenty-Two_

"Surprise!"

"Oh dear God, you remembered." Bailey stared in horror at the twenty plus people infesting her kitchen. Tony, Pepper, Rhodey, Happy, Natasha, Clint, Director Fury, Agent Hill, Thor, Jane, Selvig, Darcy, Steve, Bruce, and various others, that she couldn't name if you put a gun to her head, all stood around an island piled with gifts and balloons, and a cake that threatened to topple off the side.

She should have known something was up. "S.H.I.E.L.D. needs some help at base." They said. "It will only take a couple hours. The new recruits celebrated their graduation with too much booze and they need your hangover remedy." It was a set-up. She glared accusingly at the agent who escorted her home. Ryan Something-or-Another. "You knew."

"I was under orders, ma'am."

"You're a traitor."

"Considering he answers to me and not you, I fail to see how." Fury interrupted, grinning from ear-to-ear.

"Do you like it, Bails?" Pepper asked, vibrating with excitement. "I didn't think we'd be able to get you out of the Tower. You didn't want to go to the spa and you flat out refused the shopping trip. Bruce couldn't even steal you away to a museum. I was almost sure we'd have to lock you in the laundry room just to get you away long enough to get everything set up."

Bailey sucked in a deep breath, counting to three under her breath. _They mean well. They mean well. They mean well. _She repeated the mantra in her head, even as she gave a fake smile and pretended to love the surprise. Bruce sidled up behind her, keeping a calming hand on her shoulder as the others swarmed and took their turns embracing her.

"I tried to talk her out of it." He whispered, stepping around her to block her from the crowd for a moment. "Tony and I both did, but you know how Pepper is when she's got an idea stuck in her head. Hell and high water couldn't have changed her mind."

"It's fine, Bruce." Bailey mumbled, hugging his waist. "I understand. She means well."

"Wine and cartoons later?"

"Please?"

Bruce chuckled, dropping a kiss on top of her head. "Happy Birthday, Bails."

* * *

_Twenty-Three_

"Dammit, Clint! Sit down!" Bailey roared, shoving him the archer into the nearest available chair. Steve, Thor, and Bruce had gone to shower, Nat was debriefing Fury, and Pepper was watching after Tony, so Clint was the only one available for her to fuss over.

And she was going to fuss, by God. It had been a great day. She talked with her sister and nephews this morning. Bruce helped her make breakfast and promised her that there were no surprise parties planned. Just a night of pizza, beer, chocolate chip cookies with her friends. Then the call came in.

Some idiot pastor decided it would be a good idea to sell his congregation a tonic that would "cure them of all that was sinful in God's eyes." The result was that the sixty people dumb enough to "give a generous offering" for the tonic ran around in true Jekyll and Hyde style, all of their evil coming out to torment the city. The Avengers rounded them up (Hulk might have stepped on one or two), S.H.I.E.L.D. was working on a cure, the pastor would never see the light of day again, and Clint, the dear dumbass, took a Bible to the head that left a nasty gash.

"You're a marksman and you didn't see the damn thing coming?" Bailey hissed, soaking a cotton ball in rubbing alcohol and cleaning the wound. She winced at the bit of skull she saw peeping through. "You're going to need the glue."

"No! You're kidding!" Clint flinched away, trying to get up from the chair. "I hate the glue!"

"It's the glue or stitches." Bailey warned, hovering her knee over his most sensitive areas in warning. "Stay still."

"It stinks though!" Clint whined.

Bailey rolled her eyes, digging through the first aid kit for dermabond, tack, and strips. The archer was the biggest baby she knew. That wasn't quite true. He was tough as nails, unfortunately. He was also very sensitive to certain sights, scents, and flavors, so she had to be cautious about everything. The spices she used to perfume she wore or the color of her shirt had to be carefully balanced so that he didn't go into sensory overload. Right now though, he had to suck it up. The smell of the tack (the dermabond itself was odorless) paled in comparison to what would happen if she didn't get that closed up.

"Stay very still." She commanded, pressing the skin back together and dotting tack on either side. Quickly, she applied the strips before the tack could dry, rubbing more over the top for good measure. Nat came in and took a seat next to Clint, gripping his hand in hers while Bailey applied the dermabond. She appreciated that the assassin didn't try to take over. There were times, especially after they went on a mission, that she needed to do something to assure herself that they were all still alive and (mostly) unharmed. "There."

"Is it done?" Clint asked, wrinkling his nose.

Bailey nodded, moving to throw away the scraps. "Yep. Do you remember how to care for it?"

"Don't pick. Don't scrub. Try not to sweat. Let it fall off on its own, just like you're supposed to do with a scab."

"Very good." Bailey smiled, ignoring Clint's glare. Carefully, she set to work whipping up enough snacks and drinks for everyone to devour. She could already hear Thor's thundering footsteps and Steve's laughter as they headed up the hall. Bruce wouldn't be far behind them, and Pepper and Tony would be down as soon as he finished setting his Iron Man suit up for repairs. They were always ravenous when they came back from a mission. Everyone would be sitting around and eating for hours to come.

As she predicted, the inhabitants of the tower all crowded into the kitchen within the hour. Bailey stayed busy slapping sandwiches together and brewing enough sweet tea to float a row boat. Pepper slid up to her as things started to wind down, handing her a small envelope. "I didn't forget, even if things aren't quite right to celebrate. I know you don't like a big show of things, but I have you set up for an ultimate shopping spree and trip to the salon whenever you want to take them. The details are inside. No." She held up her hand, warding off Bailey's protests. "Do it in your own time, but you need new clothes. Your things are falling apart. " She patted Bailey on the back. "And thank you for everything you do around here. I know we don't say it often, but we really appreciate it."

"Pepper, you and Tony pay me an amazing salary, give extra for me to take courses, provide me with food and a home, and are like my family. All that in exchange for a bit of cooking and cleaning. You don't ever need to thank me."

The red-head hugged her tightly. "You do so much more than that, Bails. And we're not like a family. We are a family. A twisted, dysfunctional, turbulent family, but a family nonetheless." She leaned back, brushing a few stray curls off Bailey's forehead. "Happy birthday, sweetie."

"Thanks, Pep."

Bruce walked toward them slowly and, taking her cue, Pepper headed back to Tony's side. "What was that about?"

"Birthday present." Bailey waved the card at him. "Are you alright?"

"I'm perfect." He pulled a DVD out of his back pocket. "And, I managed to pick this up before I came back." It was a copy of 50 classic cartoons. Betty Boop, Popeye, even the old school library films. "I've also got a bottle of the blackberry merlot that you like. Our tradition as soon as everyone splits?"

Her face split into a wide grin and she slipped her arms around his waist, hugging as tight as she possibly could. "You know, I think this has been my best birthday in five years."

He laughed, squeezing her to him and laying his cheek on top of her head. "Here's hoping you're next birthday will be even better."


End file.
